


Heaven Won't Take Me Back

by dance_dance_miserable



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Angel!Patrick, Gen, Peterick if you squint - Freeform, demon!pete, intended as plantonic, loosely inspired by Good Omens, mild body horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 13:03:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21494755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dance_dance_miserable/pseuds/dance_dance_miserable
Summary: Angels and demons had been divided since the First Great War, when Heaven’s army threw Lucifer and his band of rebellious angels out of Heaven and into the pits below.Pete had been one of those angels. He remembered little of his life before the War, just the light of Heaven and the warmth of the Almighty’s love.
Relationships: Patrick Stump & Pete Wentz, Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27
Collections: Stumpsthetic Challenge Prizes





	Heaven Won't Take Me Back

**Author's Note:**

> written for @essielf on tumblr as a prize for coming first in my first ever moodboard challenge. their winning moodboards are included below at the beginning and end of the story!
> 
> title taken from the cab's 'angel with a shotgun'.

Heaven and Hell had only one rule in common: thou shalt not befriend the enemy.

For Heaven, that enemy was Hell; for Hell, it was Heaven. Angels and demons had been divided since the First Great War, when Heaven’s army threw Lucifer and his band of rebellious angels out of Heaven and into the pits below. 

Pete had been one of those angels. He remembered little of his life before the War, just the light of Heaven and the warmth of the Almighty’s love. He was sure he was breathtaking back then as well. 

All angels were beautiful, made in the image of God, but the ones who had been cast out lost their divine radiance in the Fall. They became less human, more animalistic, some even becoming disfigured in the process. Pete had been one of the lucky ones, he supposed; he hadn’t lost any body parts or gained any scars when he Fell, with the exception of having his wings singed ebony black. 

But his divine beauty hadn’t been left entirely unscathed: his eyes had turned a bright, unnatural orange, and spiraling horns had erupted from his head. The pain of it all was excruciating in a way only divine punishment could be. Even after the changes had ceased, the ache of rejection remained deep in Pete’s chest. It had been decades since an angel had even dared lay eyes on him, and even some demons were intimidated by his wolfish grin and uncanny gaze. 

Pete had essentially resigned himself to a life of loneliness; that is, until he met Patrick.

Patrick was a young, naive little angel. He’d been Created sometime after the War, part of a new batch of angels undoubtedly meant to serve in the place of the ones who had Fallen. Pete had heard rumors that these new angels were spoonfed holy propaganda from the time they first opened their eyes. 

_‘The Lord is all-knowing and all-seeing. She knows what’s best.’_

_‘It is against an angel’s nature to question the Lord.’_

These phrases and more like them were all commonly found on posters scattered across the walls of Heaven and the lips of the higher-ranking angels. Many of them had fought on the side of Heaven during the War, making them that much more determined to keep these fresh-faced angels unquestioningly loyal.

But one piece of pro-Heaven advertising was emphasized above the rest.

_‘Demons are dangerous beasts and should not be meddled with.’_

The elder angels, Pete had been told, were known for telling cautionary tales and chilling horror stories about ruthless demons and blood-thirsty beasts that dwelt below in Hell in a way that was not unlike the verbal traditions of many human cultures down on Earth. Tales were spun of jagged fangs, thrashing tails, and soulless eyes, and of creatures perfectly eager to devour a naive little angel on sight.

The fear tactics employed by Heaven’s higher-ups mostly succeeded in keeping the new angels’ curiosity in check.

Mostly.

Patrick was quite the exception. His appearance was rather unassuming for an angel, with honey-blonde hair, crystal blue eyes, and a flawless alabaster complexion that made his petal pink lips stand out; despite this, his personality was rather unheard of when compared to the other residents of Heaven. 

He was a little spitfire of an angel, eyes always glimmering with mischief. He was kind, certainly, and just as generous as his peers, but without the quiet demureness expected of him. Patrick liked to talk and debate and learn, and he _loved_ asking questions, much to the chagrin of the elder angels. 

Many higher-ranking angels had discussed having him Fall simply to get him out of the way, but they couldn’t risk starting another War so soon; instead, they resolved to keep a closer eye on the new angel.

This was easier said than done.

Patrick had a habit of sneaking off to explore all on his own, even when Heaven ordered him to be elsewhere. He was incredibly skilled at shaking other angels off his trail, which was especially easy given the uniform white robes worn by the angels, including himself. Pair that with his common dirty-blonde hair and slipping off for an unauthorized excursion was a piece of cake.

Today’s forbidden destination of choice for Patrick was the Gap.

The Gap was often said to be the most dangerous place in Heaven; it was a large dropoff littered with rocky ledges that supposedly led straight to Hell. 

Patrick wasn’t sure if he believed that, but still found himself inexplicably drawn to the darkness below. It scared him, certainly, but also sparked an excitement in him that he’d never felt before. 

He wanted to get closer.

Slowly, Patrick took a step back, extending his snowy white wings to their full span behind him. He crouched, legs coiled beneath him like a spring. He was going to jump.

“What in Satan’s name do you think you’re doing?”

The voice knocked Patrick off balance, and he fell ungracefully onto the ground below, body dangerously close to the edge of the Gap. “Who’s there?” he demanded, looking frantically around. He’d been caught, he was sure of it, and now he was going to Fall.

“Over here, angel. Across the way.”

Patrick looked up, squinting at the cliff face on the opposite side of the Gap. There was a figure perched on the ledge closest to the top, ebony wings extended behind them in a mirror of Patrick’s own. They were a demon, by the looks of it: ram’s horns spiraled out from the sides of their head, fangs glinting in the dim light and barbed tail swishing curiously from side to side. 

“My name’s Pete,” the demon offered, lips stretching into a grin. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt you, little angel.”

“You’re a demon,” Patrick replied. “Isn’t that what you do?”

Pete laughed, a braying sound hoarse with disuse. “Silly angel,” he began, wiping tears from his eyes. “I have so much to teach you.”


End file.
